Betrayal of Swords
by niara a. tepes
Summary: Rating may go up. A curse set them apart from everything and everyone. A power sturggle for rulership will rip the Three Worlds apart. Three who were cast aside now hold all their fates in their uncaring hands.
1. Prologue

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, the manga or anime known as Yu Yu Hakusho.

**Betrayal of Swords**

**Prologue: Arrival**

_Makia – 49 years prior_

_The echo of footsteps, swift and sure, filled the air of the corridor as he ran, lungs heaving as he drew in the frigid air of the southern-most region of the realm, blood colored eyes darting this way and that as he hunted for his prey, sword loose in its sheath, the wards that hindered his powers already burning away under the constant pressure. Fabric fluttered about his tiny frame as he dodged yet another useless attack from his unseen enemy, the creeping viridian smile eating away at the hastily discarded cloak that had once adorned his shoulders. He forced his senses to ignore the presence of his companions, keeping them on the periphery of his mind, focusing solely on the faint, hidden power of the demon that he was fighting._

_A surge of youki to his left alerted him to the demon's presence and he acted swiftly, turning sharply on his heel and reversing his momentum, his legendary speed on full display as his gleaming blade cleared its sheath and slid cleanly through cloth, armor, bone, and flesh, blood spraying, the wide-flung drops just barely missing his form as he landed, sword returned to his sheath._

_He turned back to the demon to witness the collapse of the severed body, noting that the head had rolled off to the side, the hate-filled eyes still not quite comprehending what had just happened. Approaching slowly, he knelt carefully in the spreading puddle of the metal-scented fluid, digging in the dead demon's ruined clothes in search of one of three items that he had been sent to help retrieve. The medallion, a small, silver disc with a simple starburst on one side and an ancient rune for balance on the other, glinted wickedly as he withdrew it from the carnage, huffing slightly in annoyance at being sent to retrieve such a trivial item._

_Clack!_

_He slipped the medallion into the many belts that wrapped tightly about his waist and turned, eyes flickering left and right, hunting for his opponent. A deep, lyrical voice reached his sensitive ears and he immediately dodged to the right, diving into the deeper shadows of the alcoves, just barely avoiding the bolt of lightning that slammed into the ground. The scent of kitsune assaulted his nose for an instant before something ripped through his body, flinging him backwards and slamming his child-like frame into the stone wall, cracks rippling from the point of impact for nearly twenty feet. A burn, cold and hot at once, spread from the center of his chest, his lungs fluttering spastically, trying to draw in the air that he couldn't breathe in, his barely beating heart fluctuating rapidly, youki rising and falling wildly._

_Forcing his gaze up, to the high ledge where he knew his attacker stood, he could just make out the tall form of the demon that had attacked him, a flash of silver and a shimmer of gold branded into his memory before his eyes closed, his body slumping uselessly to the ground. In his mind, now joined with the minds of his companions, he could just barely hear the last words that would be uttered to him by the one that had ordered them to come, the final curse that now bound them from their very will to fight._

-*-*-*-*-*-

Reikai – Present

"Pathetic." Blood splattered the once pristine halls of the palace of Reikai, sea colored eyes observing the carnage with contempt. Arms, legs, heads, torsos, even organs littered the area, blood painting every surface of the corridor. Souls huddled together in fear and the ferry girls cowered in the corners, afraid to draw any nearer to the ones that had committed these acts. Only one stood her ground, watching them with broken, uncaring eyes that seemed to be a mournful purple, the expression of sorrow that wreathed her features unnatural. Her sky blue hair was limp about her pale, sunken face and her kimono was pure white, even the obi that wrapped around her almost too slender waist.

She stood beside the open doors of the main office of Prince Koenma, who stood in front of his desk, the ever present pacifier hanging from a stout cord about his neck. His expression was grim, firm, almost harsh, and his eyes were dark with a peculiar sorrow, his skin pale and slightly drawn. The two stood straight and proud, meeting the gazes of their vicious attackers, neither caring if those clawed hands, stained bright red with fresh blood, or cold steel weapons tore into them, facing what was to come with far greater dignity and bravery than the rest.

It brought a cold smile to his face as he met the eyes of the junior ruler of the spirit world, vivid, pale lavender clashing with dark, solemn brown. The demon, for their leader could only be just that, stepped forward, long grey hair draping his slender, deceptive frame as he stood before the demi-god, one claw-tipped hand resting too casually on the grip of his katana. "Hello, Prince Koenma."

Koenma glared at the unnamed demon, anger flashing across his gaze for an instant. "It would be rude to ask what it is that you want without knowing your name, Demon."

"Hikorei," the demon replied simply, fire dancing at his fingertips for an instant before dwindling away, amusement dancing in his gaze. "And I am here to deliver a message on behalf of my master."

"What message?" Koenma demanded, eyes narrowing. Hikorei was surprised by the coldness of the young god's voice. He had heard the rumors about the prince, but even he was surprised at the levels to which events had altered him and his most powerful ferry girl.

"The power of the Gods will be stripped," Hikorei declared, a little surprised that the demi-god barely even blinked at the declaration. "My master will give the Gods and Demon Lords one month to gather those that they see fit to challenge our claim to rule the three worlds."

Koenma stared at the demon, back straight and head high. "I will relay your message to my father. Whether or not he heeds it, I cannot make any promises."

Hikorei grinned at that. "He will have no choice."

He fell into a sweeping, almost mocking bow and began to fade away, a glittering, golden mist surrounding him and the pair that had followed him, leaving only the devastation in their wake.

**Upfront, I'm not going to demand that you review, it would just be appreciated. Reviews do not necessarily encourage me, nor do I want you to feel as if you need to go out of your way to do so just so I'll update. If you like the story, great. If you don't, that's fine too. All I ask is that, if you feel it needs to be said, feel free to say. Criticism, be it good or bad, is criticism and can only serve to improve upon what is already present.**

**Thank you for your time.**


	2. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, the manga or anime known as Yu Yu Hakusho.

**Betrayal of Swords**

**Chapter 1: Fallout**

The stale, bitter alcohol in the mug swirled lightly as he moved the item lightly, the tattered hood of his cloak and frayed mask hiding the direction of his gaze, his ears tuned to the many conversations around him. Rumors had traveled through the earth and sky, reaching even his ears; rumors of a war that had been declared against all three worlds.

He had felt the changes, just as everyone else had, had heard the screams of anguish from the temples as the powers of the gods faded away, lingering only in those objects that had been permanently separated from the gods; however, even those had diminished in strength. Even here, in the remote parts of northern Makai, where few dared to live, the rumors had spread, bringing news that had roused him from his solitude.

"I heard King Enma is goin' to force Mukuro, Yomi, Enki, and all them to stay outta this, whether they want to or not," one of the demons, a cat demon, declared, slamming her mug down soundly. "He's sayin' that the SDF can handle it!"

'_More like get their useless asses kicked,'_ the cloaked demon thought, almost snorting into his untouched drink. The concept of the Reikai Special Defense Forces doing something that remotely resembled useful was laughable, in his mind. Those sons of bitches couldn't find their own asses with a map and step by step direction.

"No way," another demon growled. "Them S-Classes ain't gonna take that! Not e'en Enma can tell 'em what ta do!"

Roars of agreement filled the bar, fists banging on tables, dishes rattling and feet stomping the ground in a wild frenzy. The cloaked demon rose and departed quickly, leaving a few coins on the table for his still-full drink. Outside, the biting wind snatched at his ragged cloak, the ragged and hole-spotted fabric flapping back to reveal a tall, dark skinned body littered with deep blue markings, distinguishing his clan and rank, before the cloak fell back into place, hiding him from view once more.

He stood in the open air outside the bar for a single instant before vanishing, a peculiar swooshing noise filling the air for a moment, the after image blurring and disappearing as the demon ran, unseen and unsensed as he crossed the barren land towards the broken mountains that he had come to refer to as home. He had found what he had set out to find and was satisfied with the results. Things would continue in the course that they were going and he would wait it out, just as he had for nearly half a century.

After all, this ceased to be his affair long ago.

The cloak flew back one last time in the wind that kicked up once he stopped outside of his home, his hair and the fabric pulled aside by nature to reveal the long, thick scar that extended from right should to left hip along his back. The angry red color of the old wound spoke of its depth and the ferocity of the attack that had delivered the fatal blow, and of his own will to survive. About his neck, a shard of pure, clear crystal caught the light of the ever present lightning, illuminating his shadowed eyes and the long strands of dark hair that fell in his face from the depths of the cloak.

He stepped into the ancient stone room that his father had lived and practically died in, the cloak settling about his form, hiding it from even his view once more. Darkness surrounded him as the doors behind him slammed shut, sealing him away from the world once more.

-*-*-*-*-*-

"'By the order of King Enma' my ass," Mukuro growled as she stormed through the corridors of the palace in Gandara, straight towards Yomi's office, a piece of parchment clenched tightly in her natural fist. "I like I'm going to listen to anything that fat bastard of a god has to say."

Beside her, Hokushin nodded his agreement, even if he did not necessarily share the Demon Lord's sentiments. He had his own, personal reasons for disliking any orders from Reikai in general these days. "It would seem he still believes he has some power and influence in Makai."

The demoness scoffed at the mere thought, her natural eye narrowed in outrage. "Fucking pig. After the last order from Reikai that we heeded, he honestly thinks that we are just going to do as he wants? Fucking hypocrite."

"Be that as it may," Yomi stated as the doors to his office were flung open by the enraged telepath, "we can do nothing against these orders, really. Besides, if he wants to send his Special Forces to their deaths, I'm more than willing to sit on the sidelines and let him."

Mukuro and Hokushin sat on the mats provided by Yomi, the psychic folding her arms over her chest and scowling, the monk sitting straight and calm, his eyes betraying the only signs of his rage. Yomi waited until a servant had finished bringing them their tea before continuing, his blind eyes staring into the depths of the cup set before him as he gathered his thoughts. "We cannot actually stop Enma from trying to enforce his will, so why not let him waste his resources in this useless endeavor? We can pick up where his people fail once he realizes his own folly."

Hokushin nodded in agreement, taking a sip of his tea before continuing. "A sound plan."

The psychic growled softly in annoyance before nodding her agreement as well, tossing the crumpled letter on the table. She picked up her tea and began to drink, even as Yomi picked up the letter and ran his fingers over the pages, the subtle differences of ink and parchment allowing his sensitive fingertips to relay the message to him. "So, Enma plans to challenge them with warriors as the representatives of all three worlds. A foolish cause, seeing as humans can hardly protest and we are more than willing to wait this out."

"He's convinced we can't see through his plots," Hokushin stated. "Especially after what happened…."

The dishes on the table rattled loudly as Mukuro slammed her fist onto the wooden surface, an ominous cracking echoing through the room. "That son of a bitch thinks he can get away with whatever he fucking wants just because of _that_. It makes me sick!"

Yomi sighed and collected his glass of tea, sipping the warm beverage carefully. "Still no word, I take it."

"Almost fifty years," the psychic growled, "and we can't even find Hiei's fucking sword, let alone any sign of their fucking bodies!"

Hokushin nodded once more. "The other monks and I have searched the wreckage of the castle they were sent to several times and we have been unable to find anything. Even a search of the outlying region proved useless."

"Those frigid bitches didn't help any," Mukuro stated. Yomi sighed and set his tea down again. He rose gracefully, signaling that their meeting had come to a close. As the other two rose, he turned his sightless eyes to them.

"There is no point in dwelling on the matter at this time," the current King of Makai stated. "We have work that must be done to prepare for this and little time to accomplish it. I will inform King Enma that we will respect his wishes for now."

As the three demon prepared to depart, a faint crack filled the suddenly still air as all three of the cups that they had been drinking from split along one side.

-*-*-*-*-*-

"The Makai will allow Reikai to carry out its plans, my Lord." The Lord, a tall, golden haired man with smooth, sun bronzed skin, continued to lounge in his throne, eyes closed and the long, silken tail flicking back and forth contentedly. The demon that knelt before him, the ever loyal Hikorei, watched his master's beautiful face carefully, waiting for the moment the more powerful demon would stir. At last, his wait was ended.

The kitsune set his bare feet on the cold stone that comprised the floor and rose to his full height, carelessly flicking golden hair from his shoulders as he glided to the windows that lined one entire wall, his bare feet and flowing pants silent as he moved with his unnatural grace. "Have they, now?"

Hikorei rose and joined his lord, shifting the ever present katana from his hand to his back, the worn grip and sheath gleaming in the torchlight. "Shall I return and announce the place and time to them?"

Silence lingered between them for a moment before the kitsune nodded his consent, opening his eyes to reveal eyes the color of silver, cold and wild, a faint glow accenting the paleness of those glaring orbs. "Wait to announce the final twist at the tournament. I want to see their faces for myself."

Hikorei nodded and bowed, stepping away in preparation of departing to the Reikai once more to deliver his master's will. "Hikorei."

The fire demon paused, blinking as he looked at his lord. "Yes, my Lord?"

A cold, cruel smile twisted the kitsune's lips. "Be certain to get the list from them."

Blinking, the fire demon bowed and nodded. "As you wish, my Lord."

Once the doors to the chamber slammed shut behind his servant, the kitsune glared out at the vast forest of Makai that were visible through the windows, silver eyes burning as his hunted for a form that he knew he would not see.

"Where are you hiding, Brother?"

**That's that. Gee, did I make it too obvious who was under that cloak? Anyway, this is the fastest I have ever updated a story, so yeah…**

**Thanks for the time!**


	3. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, the manga or anime known as Yu Yu Hakusho.

**Betrayal of Swords**

**Chapter 2: Messages**

_**He seeks you.**_ A silver ear twitched in the direction of the earthy, gravelly voice, pale lids lifting slightly to reveal bored, uninterested gold. One slender, pale skinned hand reached out lazily, long, delicate, almost feminine fingers uncurling slightly so that the fragile flower could brush his skin, absorbing the tiniest traces of his addicting _youki_. _**His eyes are constantly hunting.**_

"Do I care?" He voice was deeper than normal with fatigue and apathy. All about him, weaving in the gleaming silver hair that fanned about him, brushing against his flawless skin, twining in his tail, fauna rustling in a worried manner, seeking to soothe one whose very soul refused the affection. In his mind, stirred by the worry of their many pets and sole companion, his other self stirred, making his presence felt for the first time in over a decade.

_Are they still fretting over that?_ Even the mental, soundless voice of his other half was listless and dull, lacking the vibrancy that had once seemed to draw others to him like moths. The fox shrugged and rolled onto his side before rising up and resting on his elbow, tailing flicking lazily back and forth in the fallen leaves and petals that littered their resting grounds. "They have for the last few months. He has grown more active, it would seem."

The other was silent, almost letting the demon believe he had returned to sleep, before a transparent form settled against his back, head resting on the curve of his side so that his blood colored mane fell over the demon's stomach. Decidedly feminine fingers, containing only the frailest hint of solidity, wove through the fur of his tail, stroking languidly, as he gazed off at the surrounding forest. "Are you going to do something?"

"No," the demon stated flatly, caressing the delicate bell flower that rested against his hand. "Our most auspicious Lord and Master can deal with him on his own."

It was unnecessary for the demon to look to see the amused, frigid smile that twisted his companion's pink lips, to witness that searing ice that had turned those once warm and caring eyes to stone. After all, to see it, all he needed to do was gaze upon his features in that moment.

******

Red hair flew wildly as the young kitsune bolted through the trees, not daring to look behind her to see if she had lost the many pursuers. The tiniest branches clawed at her feet, bending to ensnare her slender ankles, the wide branches creaking angrily as she leapt from limb to limb, never lingering long enough for the trees to strike, not willing to pause for even an instant to breathe. Power itched beneath her skin, her chest burning with the desire to just _burst_ from the constraints placed upon her, but she dared not, terrified of the consequences of failure.

Tucked away within the inner pocket of her jacket, the slender scroll and wooden box rattled together, the contents sliding back and forth with her every movement. Her master had entrusted her with these two treasures, instructed her to carry them to the one place her pursuer would never dare set foot, not yet. Adrenaline flooded her veins as the sight of her master, his many coats ripped and stained with blood, his dark skin dangerously pale, bright blood painting his face comically, flickered across her mind, his words echoing in her ears, clear through the thunderous pounding of her own heart.

"_Find the Temple of the Ninth in the far south. Entrust these only to the one who resides there and no other. He will know what to do with them. Leave them with him and depart. Do not linger! GO!"_ He had thrust these two items, treasures he had guarded jealously, into her hands and sent her away, gracing her with scarcely a minutes head start over the beast that served the one that had attacked them. The sound of howling reached her ears and she pushed herself faster, fire dancing on her finger tips, begging to be released.

Screams reached her ears, anguished and agonized, but she dared not stop, for fear of an illusion, a trick, for fear of failing her master, for fear of death itself.

As the screams grew louder, the kitsune ran faster.

******

Steam curled lazily above the china cup as the ancient and withered psychic sat at the low table across from the current Spirit Detective and the Prince of Reikai himself. To her left and right, Shizuru Kuwabara, just shy of eighty and still carrying herself with the air of twenty, and Yukina, the fragile and sad eyed koorime that lived in the temple with them, waited, the air between the five gathered heavy and oppressive. The Spirit Detective, a young man of twenty-nine named Ichiro Hatanaka, fidgeted nervously, uncertain under the scrutinizing gazes of the three across from him and his boss.

Koenma sipped his tea carefully before setting the cup down, eyes never rising from the heated depths of the china glass. "I assume you heard about the declaration delivered by this Hikorei."

Genkai nodded, her head. "I have also assumed that your father is planning on attempting to handle things himself."

"And you would be correct," Koenma replied. "He plans to allow as little demon involvement in the handling of the situation as possible."

Yukina fiddled with the delicate cords that dangled from the end of her kimono sleeves, frowning slightly. "Is he that confidant in the weakness of this enemy's strength?"

Ichiro was about to speak before Koenma sighed. "He is, but I am not."

Genkai picked up her glass and glanced at Shizuru, wondering what the woman was thinking. Shizuru was frowning, eyes slightly distant. "Why is that? Are you going to defy him once more or do you have a real reason?"

"They aren't bluffing," the demi-god replied shortly, raising his gaze to meet each of theirs, his brown eyes far colder than they once were. "Hikorei will return in a few days for our answer and my father refuses to allow outside involvement in something that should be looked at far more carefully."

"Do you think they're bluffing?" Shizuru demanded. Koenma was silent for a minute before shaking his head.

"No, I don't," he stated. "Each of the declarations that Hikorei made concerning recent events has come to pass. _That_ isn't a bluff. They have power and are unafraid of using it at whatever the cost."

Silence reigned in the room, only the sound of the outside world daring to disturb the air, five beings scarcely daring to voice the thoughts that roamed through their minds. After a time, Genkai reached forward and lifted her cup, sipping the still warm beverage, eyes meeting Koenma's, expression severe.

"What will you do?"

******

_Clear, crystalline water trickled through the numerous cracks in the earth, twisting and weaving eerily as they crept along the stone surface to join at the pool resting at the rear of the hidden cavern. Strong, thorn and leaf drench vines crawled over every surface around the pool, the rich, heavy perfume of the numerous blossoms that littered the dark display saturating the air. Heat, oppressive heat that seemed to freeze the moment it touched the skin, hung everywhere, stifling any breath that might have been drawn in the abandoned cavern. Low rumbles shook the walls of the cavern, the walls echoing with mournful, despairing, hate-filled cries, loose rocks and earth falling, though none dared to touch the fauna-encircled pond, nor the far wall from which the strangely clear water ran._

_In the heavy air, the outline of the great phoenix cried, its stone wings trembling as the restraints that held it fast gained the faintest chink._

**Niara: **Yes, I know that I'm making Genkai something like 150 years old, but can you honestly see her being dead? Anyway, thanks for reading!


	4. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I do not own, nor claim to own, the manga or anime known as Yu Yu Hakusho.

**Betrayal of Swords**

**Chapter 3: Curses and Consequences**

"Something's wrong with this," Mukuro muttered as she watched the SDF and Hikorei's minions gather in the center of the pre-arranged meeting area. Beside her, Yomi nodded his agreement, a frown twisting his thin lips.

"I do not like the feel of their auras," Shura whispered from his father's other side, his eyes on Hikorei and the figure that lounged in the shadows behind him. "That one with this Hikorei feels far too much like I remember Kurama feeling."

Both Demon Lords turned to the younger demon, startled by his assessment, before turning their attention to the stranger as well. Though they could make out little of his form, they could easily feel the power he did not even bother to disguise, a power that, as Shura had said, felt similar to that of Yomi's old boss and advisor, Youko Kurama. However, unlike Youko, this figure's power was tainted with some sort of coldness that crept into the soul and festered, an open wound that refused to be healed.

"A golden kitsune," a frigid, spite-filled voice stated from behind the trio of S-Class youkai. The three turned to see a tall, slender demoness with a river of silver hair and tarnished gold eyes behind them, her delicate fox ears twitching in annoyance, her silver tail swinging back and forth. She stepped closer to the ledge that separated them from the arena, the faint flush of red on her cheeks and across her nose contrasting sharply with her pale, silver-tinted skin. "A traitor to his own kind."

"And what," Yomi inquired, "is a silver kitsune doing outside of the Kitsune Valley?"

The woman turned her spiteful glare to the goat demon and Youkai King before glaring back at the kitsune that remained veiled. "That is none of your business."

Mukuro scowled. "I would think it was –"

Yomi held up a hand to silence the psychic as Hikorei stepped in front of his companions, the kitsune leaving the deep shadows at last to join him, molten silver eyes reflecting the light that filled the arena. "It is beginning."

******

There was something about the tension, the heightened fear that filled the air, that ignited his blood, feeding his aura and his eagerness for what was to come. Beside him, Hikorei was growing restless, his carefully disguised bloodlust rising eagerly, readying to let the fire demon hybrid drive his greedy claws into King Enma's feeble attempt at defiance. His companion's anticipation was addicting and invigoration, he decided, leaning forward just slightly as he waited for the perfect moment.

Movement near the current Makai King drew his attention and an eager smirk traced his lips. So, even the great and mighty Inarius Clan, the highest clan of Silver Kitsune, had been drawn out, if the presence of his dear childhood friend Yoko was any indication. The feeling of her spiteful gaze, those glowing gold eyes, was enough to rouse him from his throne, now satisfied that all the necessary players were here.

He emerged from the shadows, a tan-skinned kitsune youkai with long, strictly tamed golden hair that fairly gleamed in the strange illumination of the arena. His garb was simple a sturdy tunic made of the finest silk and billowing pants, both the color of burnished gold, his feet bare as he stepped across the stone floor, uncaring of the sharp edges that surely littered the area. He took the time to ensure that he could study them all, his molten silver eyes falling on each living being there, no matter how young, no matter how old, no matter the race.

His gaze settled on the young demi-god who stood of from the rest of his kind, his brown eyes serious, expression betraying his certainty in what would occur. A smirk hovered on his lips for a moment as their gazes looked before Kuroshi Hachibi turned his attention to the gathering as a whole once more, a cold smile twisting his oddly pretty face.

"Welcome, all," he stated, his voice deep and oddly melodious. "I am Kuroshi, your host for this endeavor, and I appreciate your participation in this...restoration of what should have been. As you know, the rules are quite simple: those who fight for you need only defeat four of my warriors to prevent what I wish and to restore the powers of your precious, and worthless, Gods."

The outraged cries that echoed in his ears were like fine wine, intoxicating and consuming. Oddly, there was one voice that he had been so eager to here, one that he had so hoped would deny him. Turning slightly, his silver eyes fell upon the one that had granted him his first taste of divine power and it very nearly startled him to see the faint, mocking smile that twisted the Kitsune Goddess's lips.

Interesting.

Kuroshi merely brushed it off, knowing that, soon enough, what his former Mistress believed would mean nothing with his victory over them all. He would be certain to slit her throat first. He held up a hand and all noise ceased, dying in throats and in the midst of utterance. "One last comment before we begin. Only those names that were presented as the ones who would fight will be given the chance, so, for your sakes, I hope your faith in the abilities of your Gods' forces is stronger than I know it to be."

With that, he returned to his throne, a pleased smile twisting his lips as the true meaning of his words sank into their minds. Only one had thought to suspect his requirements, to question the rules, and that one was the only being not subject to the death that was sure to follow.

Provided, of course, Koenma continued to prove more prudent than his oaf of a father.

******

Mukuro growled softly as she watched the demons and SDF members gathering in the arena below, her cyber-optic eye and natural eyes both gleaming dangerously. "This is a load of _bullshit_."

Yomi sighed and leaned against the wall behind the psychic, unseeing eyes never leaving the confident form of the golden _kitsune_ who presided over recent events. "Why would he do this?"

Hokushin and Mukuro turned to stare at the goat, confused. The monk frowned, his hairless face twisted into a too serious image. "What the hell are you talking about, Lord Yomi?"

"This fox," Yomi explained, waving towards Kuroshi. "Youko never did anything without an ulterior motive and this demon has offered nothing beyond a deep hatred for the Gods. Why is that? What is it that he is after?"

"His Brother," a new, resonating voice declared. The three demons turned to see the mortal form of the Rice God Inari, followed by three _kitsune_, each of a different breed. The Goddess smiled at them, a cold calculating smile that was all too hauntingly familiar. "Kuroshi seeks the power of his Brother so that he might become a God himself."

"But why?" Mukuro demanded, glaring at the golden demon once more.

"Because Kuroshi is only an eight-tail," one of the fox demons explained, his white hair fairly crackling with the fury in his storm cloud eyes. "Kuroshi seeks the power of the Ninth."

******

Freezing wind tore at the ragged cloak that covered his body, the sub-arctic temperatures hardly phasing the small demon. With every step, snow melted and froze, creating a clear line of footprints for an instant before the howling wind buried them beneath a foot of fresh white powder. The golden medallion hanging from his neck hummed softly, the faintest hint of his own aura radiating from the ancient artifact.

Beneath the bandages wrapped around both arms, the dragons stirred, opening glowing eyes and growling in warning as he drew ever closer to the ruined remains of the ancient temple where their curse was put into effect. On his right arm, the white dragon hissed, its blue eyes visible through the gap in the bindings. _There is another here._

"I can smell that," the little demon growled as he entered the frozen ruins that had become his sanctuary over the last few decades. He paused in the middle of the crumbling pillars, eyes narrowed as he searched for the intruder, his third eye glowing with its wicked intent. "Show yourself!"

There was a groan of pain as a red-haired _kitsune_, one just barely out of her teens by the looks of her, stumbled from among the ruined pillars, blood painting the left side of her pale face and her left arm hanging limp and useless, the deep slashes in the flesh revealing the white bone beneath in places. "Are…are you...the one…who lives here?"

"Who wants to know?" he growled, blood colored eyes never leaving the injured demon's face for a moment. The girl struggled to stay standing as she met his gaze, wheezing through the pain of her wounds.

"I…am Taichiko," she gasped. "My…my master is…was the Fourth…Disciple…of Inari…I have…a message…for you…from him…"

"I'm retired, little fox," the short demon growled. "Fucking Enma made sure of that. Take your message to someone who cares."

"It's…for the….the Ninth," she pleaded, stumbling towards the raven haired demon. "Kuroshi…the golden…will kill…us all…for his power…"

Taichiko collapsed into the snow in front of the startled demon, breathing shallow and irregular. Hiei stared at her fallen form for a minute, memories of the name she had uttered dancing in his mind.

"_Ow," the familiar voice of the former Spirit Detective, Yusuke Urameshi, declared. Hiei groaned softly and sat up, clutching at his forehead and peering at the icy landscape with blurred vision. "What the fuck happened?"_

"_If you would shut up for five fucking minutes, we could figure that out," Hiei growled. Beside him, Kurama groaned and sat up as well rubbing at his throbbing temples. Then, Hiei heard the last thing he had ever expected to come out of Kurama's mouth._

"_Fuck!" The kitsune rose to his feet and began running his hands through his hair, a desperate look in his eyes. "My seeds are _gone_!"_

"_That would be because they have become the medium of your curse," a laughing, musical voice declared. The three demons turned sharply, ruby, emerald, and golden eyes narrowed dangerously at the golden haired demon crouching before them, a wicked smile on his lips. "Hello, servants of a traitor."_

"_What are talking about?" Yusuke growled. The fox laughed and waved a hand dismissively._

"_It's simple, really," he declared. "Enma set you up, though you did succeed in getting what I was after before me. He paid me to steal the aspect of each of you that will bind you forever. From this day forward, you will never set foot outside of Makai, nor will you allow any of your former friends or acquaintances to lay eyes on any of you again, lest those closest to you die. That is the Curse of Enma."_

"_Who are you to tell us any of this?" Hiei growled. "I should rip your head off!"_

"_No, Hiei!" Kurama yelled, throwing his arm across Hiei's chest. "Don't!"_

"_Yes, Hiei," the fox cackled. "Listen to the little vessel. As for who I am: I am Hachibi no Kuroshi, the High Priest of Inari and you could not hope to defeat me in your current state."_

_A swirl of golden fire surrounded the cackling fox demon, caring him away in a surge of flame, leaving the three demons behind in the snow._

…**hopefully, things are starting to come together and make a little more sense…**


End file.
